Ah, Sunday. The day of rest. The only day all week the Koneko no Sumu Ie didn't raise its shutters at all. A day of inventories and advance work on arrangements for Monday. A day that Youji preferred to spend most of asleep.
And this he had done, if overdone a little. The clock was edging past two when he opened his eyes to a red-orange-hued room, arms wrapped around one of his pillows and sheets in a knot around his waist. Yawning widely, he burrowed his face into the pillow, stretching his legs out behind him.
Relaxed, he was, marvellously so. His body felt warm, lax and heavy with sleep. Idly, he wondered how long he'd been asleep, as he was not at all averse to the idea of closing his eyes and drifting off again--
The loud knocking nearly threw him out of bed.
"Youji, you home?"
Youji's eyes widened. He twisted quickly, trying to untangle himself from his bedclothes. Ken couldn't find him like this. He was still--and his bed was--and he smelled of--
He hit the floor on his backside and was confronted with green silk pajama bottoms, his legs still being caught in the sheet, above his head.
Oh. Youji blinked. Ah... that's right. He vaguely remembered waking up early the previous evening. He'd taken a shower, changed his sheets, and fallen straight back to sleep. Youji whistled quietly. I musta been out nearly twenty-four hours altogether. Impressive.
"Youji?"
"Yeah, just a minute," he called, turning over and pulling himself on his stomach the rest of the way out of his sheets. He snorted. That'd explain why I feel so good now--can't remember the last time I've slept more than four... He stood and stretched, ran a hand through his hair. For all that, I'm on a roll. Coulda gone for two days if Ken hadn't shown up.
Youji paused on his way to the door, brows drawing. If Ken was in a mood to continue their fight from yesterday, he wasn't interested. Too bad he'd already answered, or he could have pretended--Bah. Youji shrugged and pulled the door open.
Ken was poised to knock again. "Ah, Youji--"
"Holy shit, what happened to you?!" Youji raised a finger. "Don't even try to say I did that. I know I didn't hit you that hard."
Ken snorted. "Or that many times. I--Yo, can I come in?"
Youji hesitated a moment before stepping back. "'Course. Come on." He motioned Ken to sit as he closed the door, then headed for his closet. When he turned around Ken was still hesitating by the bed. "Yeah, I know, it's a mess--I just woke up."
Ken started as if he hadn't been listening. "Eh? Oh, no, that's not--" He pulled the comforter up sloppily over the sheets and sat down. "Youji, listen, um--"
"You're mad?"
"Uh... no, I... thought you would be."
Youji opened his closet, leaning against one open door as he ran a half-interested eye over the contents. "Nah," he said, without turning.
"Youji... I'm... I'm sorry, I shouldn't've--"
"Ah-ah-ah, Kenken," Youji cut in. "Don't wanna hear it. Just forget it. I must date too many women, I'm starting to act like one. Don't wanna encourage the trend, either." He heard the footsteps, of course, but chose to stay still, even as Ken's arms slipped around him from behind. The side of the younger man's face pressed against his back.
"Youji..."
Youji twisted in the loose circle of Ken's arms, a lazy smile on his lips and in heavy-lidded green eyes as he cocked his head to one side. "You may as well tell me if I'm wasting my time getting dressed here, Ken."
Ken looked conflicted for a moment. Then he dropped his arms and stepped back. "No, go ahead. I wanted you to come out with me."
Youji's eyebrows unbalanced. "What? Where? How come?"
An embarrassed smile tugged Ken's lips. "To buy you lunch."
Green eyes narrowed. "That sounds to me suspiciously like an apology to a woman." Youji folded his arms.
Ken raised both hands in front of him, his familiar grin back in place. "Pure expiation of guilt, I promise."
"That's another goal by Number Eleven, Kozumi! With the score now at five to one, it looks like there's no chance for the visiting team to--"
Youji sighed. Ken was there, right in front of him, expression rapt. Eyes glued to the TV above and behind Youji. Okay, so I should have known. He toyed absently with his fork, drawing the oil bubbles from his salad dressing together on his plate in random patterns. A, that he'd go somewhere cheap, with food I didn't like. B, that I should've checked whether the table was near a TV, and C, that I shouldn't have let him sit facing it. Stupid, Youji.
Well, it wasn't as if there was much they could talk about. He and Ken didn't have enough interests in common to make good light conversation. If nothing big was going on, they were better off screwing than talking, frankly. So what were they doing here? It was a waste of time, even if it had been a cute idea on Ken's part.
It shouldn't bother him so much that Ken was watching TV right over his goddamn head. Was it more interesting than Youji? Sure! Youji was around all the time. This match between whoever it was would only be on once.
Youji huffed. I need a date. At least the women I go out with act interested. The waiters here weren't too attentive, either--Youji's drink had been empty for at least fifteen minutes without attracting even a glance from any of the passing staff. The problem, he reflected, was that the waiters were all men. He didn't feel like flagging one down, either. If he did, he just might break Ken's concentration, and, call it morbid curiosity, he wanted to see just how long Ken could manage to forget he was here.
Sometimes he would set people up this way, let them continue whatever aggravation they were causing him--an "I'm mad and I want to be madder" kind of thing. Now, he was more bored than angry, and his curiosity had little emotional weight at all, he thought, he just wanted to know.
And so what if we don't talk? Youji pushed his plate aside quietly and folded his arms over the tabletop, pillowing his chin on them. What about Aya? He never talks. To anybody.
Well... except maybe Omi. Youji half-smiled, hearing Aya's exasperated retelling of his close encounter with Omi's nascent sex life. And their discussion about Omi later. His smile grew. And what happened during and after that little talk...
One of Youji's eyebrows crept upwards. And me. He talks to me. Youji frowned. It sounded like a blatant lie, because Aya, officially, did not talk. But... he did. And when he felt like it, quite a lot. Youji blinked. About Omi, about missions, about flowers, about the books he was always borrowing from Youji's shelves...
Youji's head tilted to one side. It wasn't only that. They worked together, on missions and in the shop, all the time. Aya was the only one who really understood his lingering problems concerning Asuka, and let him know it. In battle or out, Aya caught all Youji's nonverbal signals--the subtle body language, facial twitches or gestures that meant, "to your left," "get my back," "get her outta here, would you?" or even, "I'm stressed out and pissed off. Distract me..."
If Aya had been here, instead of Ken, Youji wondered, what would this be like? The redhead would be sitting quiet and intense across from him, holding his teacup with both hands. Youji smiled at the proper image--then amended it--they didn't serve tea here. But if Aya had chosen, they wouldn't be here, anyhow. Violet eyes shone over the rim of the cup, not leaving him as it was set down. What would they talk about? Maybe not much. Maybe a mission. Maybe Omi. Whatever it was, Youji was sure he would have had Aya's undivided attention.
"--ji?"
Youji blinked up from the cushion of his arms. "Ha?" Now who's guilty of not paying attention?
"You want anything else?" There was finally a waiter standing by the table, who didn't look very happy about it.
Youji pushed himself slowly upright, stretching his arms out across the table and fanning his fingers hand by hand. He shook his head slow and deliberate, hair sliding over his shoulders one by one. "Bring us the check." He turned a steamy look at Ken, half wondering at himself just where the sudden warmth in his face--and elsewhere--had come from. "We're done here, aren't we?"
Ken's brown eyes lit in answer. "Yeah."
Youji left as Ken was paying, stopped on the sidewalk outside and lit a cigarette. As he leaned against the window of the restaurant and exhaled, his eyes wandered. He recognized this area, he realized with a twinge. Ken really hadn't been thinking too hard when he chose to eat here. It was half a year since then, but--
"Yo." Ken looked up at him expectantly as he emerged from the restaurant. "Shall we go?"
"Mm..." Youji agreed languidly, not straightening. Then, as Ken turned towards the parking lot, "Oi, matte."
"Hm?"
Youji blew out a slow stream of smoke. "You think I'm gonna last a fifteen-minute ride wrapped around the back of you?"
Ken grinned. "But, we're kinda--"
Youji's eyes flicked off to his right. "There's a sleazy job over there that lets by the hour."
Ken glanced in the direction indicated, then paused, his eyes widening slightly. "A-anou sa, Youji..."
"What?" Youji looked at him, expression blank. "No good?"
Ken swallowed. "I didn't do it on purpose. I, uh..."
A cold feeling slipped through Youji's chest into his stomach. He stepped away from the wall, making an effort to keep his non-chalant smile in place. Aa, I know you didn't. Can't decide if that makes it better or worse. "You don't wanna?" His voice came out the way it was supposed to automatically: a low, sensual purr.
"But, Youji--"
Just act like you forgot. Youji shivered, rubbed his bare arms. Nanda... His face felt too warm, the rest of him cold but for the growing heat between his legs. Aya would've figured out to touch me by now-- "What's wrong, Ken? What're you, shy all of a sudden?" Youji caught his hand in the process of reaching out. He fisted it at his side. I'm not gonna ask for this any louder, Ken. You oughta know. Youji shrugged and walked past Ken towards the parking lot. "If you're not in the mood, you should just say so." Yada, Ken. Don't leave me... untouched now. I need--
"Youji--"
Youji's breath caught in his throat. Ken's hand on his wrist felt so warm... "Hm?" Ken moved past him around the far side of the restaurant, drawing Youji with him. Ken's free hand slipped into the taller man's hair, pulling him down. Youji's eyes closed as Ken's breath spilled over his lips and he parted them. I'm not grateful for this. I'm not... He draped an arm around Ken's neck and pressed up against him. Just, I need this right now. Because...
Ken's brown eyes were wide and earnest as he let Youji pull away only fractionally. Ken's lips were moist and inviting, parted as they were. Youji didn't want to bother letting him speak, but Ken stopped him as he leaned forward. "Anywhere you want, Youji, just not there."
Aa... isn't that it? Because ultimately I can depend on you never to hurt me deliberately... Behind Ken's back, his hands were shaking. And it wouldn't be fair, would it? To put you through that again... just because it might make me feel better.
Youji looked down. His voice was soft, "I don't wanna go home."
Ken released his wrist, looping that arm around Youji's waist instead. "Damn, times like these make me think I should buy a car."
Youji chuckled in spite of himself. And maybe because of this, too...
Ken looked around. There was a fringe of forest around the parking lot. Ken nodded towards the trees. "Don't tell me you'll settle for the bushes."
Youji lifted an eyebrow, trying to regain his humour. "What, do I look too delicate for that? C'mon, Ken, it's more exciting to do it outside, isn't it?"
"Well... eep." Ken shuddered as Youji's hand dipped between his legs, none too bashfully, either. "Bushes it is," he said, pulling the hand away and making for the edge of the lot with Youji in tow. "I kinda owe ya one, after all, don't I?" he said, as they gained the cover of the trees.
"Very much so," Youji agreed. Hurry up and... make this feeling go away... He gave Ken his most lascivious smile and set to unbuckling the other's belt. "So let's have it, then. There's no one around to save you this time, either."
"Aw, c'mon--"
"Less talking, more fucking," Youji muttered, effectively silencing Ken as he tugged down the other man's pants and wrapped long fingers around his hardening length. "Somehow, if I believed you meant it..." Youji shook his head quickly, feeling cold again. They're all just words. He didn't understand Aya. Right down to his speech, when he said 'make love' instead of screw, or fuck, or whatever. How the hell had he managed to make Youji feel like he was being dirty for talking that way? 'Make love.' No one spoke like that, god damn it.
"Ah~ shit..." Ken groaned, pushing Youji back a few steps, till he came up against a tree. His face was flushed, brown eyes hooded. "Youji."
Youji bent into the kiss. It was a clumsy, hungry thing, as Ken pushed away Youji's hand, and quickly undid the older man's fly. Curse a lot when I do it... Yeah, I ain't the only one. Youji fished a tube of lubricant out of his pocket before helping Ken shove his jeans down around his knees. He pressed it into Ken's hand as he stepped out of them. "Here--use this."
"Heh. You carry." Ken backed up a little to lower his own pants and spread the lube over himself.
And it's not even for you I started... "C'mon, hurry up." He couldn't tell why his voice sounded so breathy already, or why his heart was already pounding. "Ken..."
"I gotcha." The tube dropped to the grass and Ken bent, slipping an arm under each of Youji's legs, lifting him easily.
Youji wrapped his legs around Ken's waist, shifting to better balance his back against the tree. His arms were shaking again as he took hold of the Siberian's shoulders, but Ken didn't seem to notice as he positioned himself. Damn, calm down Youji, what's wrong with you? Youji took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut and felt his whole body tighten. This ain't the way... But he couldn't help it. Idiot! It's gonna hurt, if--! The hot, slippery head of Ken's arousal pressed up against him and every muscle in his body went rigid. Are you crazy? What am I--?
"You ready?"
Wh-what? No! I-- "Yeah." Youji swallowed, the beginnings of a cold sweat dewing on his forehead. Oh god, what are we doing out here? It's too close. I-- "A-aah--!"
Youji's head flipped backwards, sunlight branding his closed eyelids blood red. His breaths started coming fast and panicked. Dame. Dame. I can't. I-it hu--
A faint, strangled moan fell from his lips as Ken seated himself fully within him, strong hands on his waist.
Ohhh, god. Youji's head sagged forward again and he bit savagely down on his lower lip, trying futilely to quell the low, almost sobbing sounds that were jerking out of him as Ken began unevenly and roughly to move. Ba--Baka. Youji gasped for breath, digging blunt nails into Ken's leather jacket. Calm the fuck down! He knew damned well and good how to relax so that this would work! He knew exactly what not to do, but--!
K-Ken... stop. I can't... I was wrong...
He couldn't even say it. Ken, please--
"Hey."
Youji opened his eyes, hot moisture streaking down his face as he did. He was panting. Ken's eyes were fixed on his. "Hey, Youji..." One of those calloused hands lifted to his face, attempting to brush at the tears there. Youji jerked his head away.
"Yer... goin' too fast," he rattled out, barely a whisper.
"Sorry."
Oh, thank god--
The motion of the younger assassin's hips stopped, the upraised hand went to Youji's shoulder instead. Youji's breath caught in his throat as he felt warm lips at his throat. Just a kiss. Just one.
"Sorry, Youji." But Ken's breath felt warm against his skin there.
"Forget it," Youji gritted. Shit. The tears wouldn't stop. This is not that time, Youji. Get a grip. "I didn't say stop, did I?" Even if I--
"You sure?"
See? He doesn't wanna--he does care whether-- "Yeah." Youji stifled another thin whine in his chest as Ken started moving again, slower this time. After a moment he realized he felt breath against his face and opened his eyes, startled to be looking straight into Ken's.
"Youji, I'm sorry."
"No... no, I just want to forget it," Youji moaned, giving up on stopping the tears. He lifted his hands shakily to cup Ken's face. "You should, too."
Ken sighed. "Youji, you know I wouldn't ever do that again. Right?" Youji nodded, pressing his bitten lips together. "Yesterday, when I--hit you--"
"It's alright."
"No, it's not--"
"Ken--" Youji gasped. "Pay attention to what you're doing." He kissed the younger man. First once, then as Ken didn't stop him, again, when Ken didn't try to take control of it, softly, tenderly, the way--
--the way Aya kissed him.
Youji's body clenched again and the next few strokes were so painful he was glad Ken couldn't hear his voice like this. His fingers threaded into Ken's hair, caressed the sides of his face as he continued, increasingly desperately, to search the mouth beneath his.
Ken's hand on Youji's shoulder slid up, stroking the back of his neck to bury his fingers in chestnut hair, pulling Youji down and tilting his own face further up as he finally began to respond in kind.
Ken... it is true, isn't it? You're... still here for a reason. And it's okay that I kept you. This does mean something to you... na?
Youji drew back, panting for breath. He started--Ken's face was tear-splashed. But those were Youji's own. Ken's eyes were still closed, thick black lashes against his flushed cheeks. Dark bangs in disarray across his face, lips full, but jaw masculine, angular. Ken was beautiful like this. His voice, too, as soft groans began to escape him. This was always when Ken was at his most attractive. When Youji would have done anything for him.
I wasn't wrong... You do... don't you?
"Youji--!" Ken's face creased in concentration, his fingers tightening at Youji's nape. Youji winced as Ken thrust into him quick and hard a few more times, then came with a shuddering groan. Youji let out a breath of relief when Ken pulled out a moment later. He lowered Youji carefully, if a bit awkwardly, to the ground, kneeling in front of him.
Youji was still painfully hard, but Ken caught his hand as he reached to finish himself off. "No--let me."
Youji's eyes rounded. "What? No, don't--ohh, shit..." Youji subsided against the tree, stifling a loud moan as Ken leaned down and without preamble swallowed him to the root. Youji's eyes crossed, his hands fisting in the grass next to him. "Fuck, Ken, that's not how you--Nnh..." He bit his lip again, trying to hold on and make this last a bit--Ken had never done this for him before. ...Maybe not for anyone, judging from his approach--direct as it was, Youji knew he couldn't stretch it out much. Still, he savoured it for a few moments--the press of Ken's thumbs against his inner thighs, the intermittent brush of damp bangs over his abdomen, and the savage pleasure of Ken's quick and inexperienced attentions.
It was all over too fast.
Ken sat back on his heels, making a face. "Ih. That tastes horrible."
Youji watched him for a moment, breathing heavily. Then he burst out laughing. "You're a true romantic, Ken." He let himself tip ungracefully onto his side, laughing till it looked as if that were why his face was still wet. "God, Ken..."
"That wasn't any good, was it?"
"You're as bad at that as you are at everything else," Youji said.
"Oi--"
Youji caught hold of Ken's collar, leaning up and pulling him down for a kiss. "But I keep coming back, don't I?" He flopped back down onto the grass, staring up at the sky through the tree branches. It was getting on towards evening, now. Youji scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of both hands, frowning in annoyance.
Neither of them spoke for a moment. "We'd better--" Youji began.
"Naa, Youji--" Ken said simultaneously.
"Iya, go ahead."
"A-aa. Youji..." The older man paused in his vigorous abuse of his eyes, turning his face towards his partner. Ken was using that strangely serious tone of voice. "Youji, are you... gonna leave? Me, I mean?" he added, after a pregnant pause.
Youji pulled his hands away, squinting up at Ken through puffy eyes. "What?" A spear of anxiety lanced through him. "Why the hell would you ask me that?"
"I--I dunno." Ken stood, pulling up his jeans quickly.
Youji frowned gravely and sat up, looking about for his pants. He was lucky it was getting dark; he was a lamentable mess, and there was nothing readily available to clean up with. He eyed the extra sweatshirt Ken had tied around his waist but didn't say anything. Instead he grabbed a handful of grass and wiped off his stomach as best he could, thankful he hadn't worn a crop-top today as he pulled his shirt back down. "Ken--"
"Youji, you're bleeding."
Youji looked down and cursed. There were trails of pink along the insides of his thighs, now that he'd kneeled up. Shit. Ken looked stricken. "It's not much, it's nothing," Youji said quickly, standing and pulling his jeans on with a grimace of severe distaste. Also a very good thing he'd chosen black ones... "Let's just get home quick so I can shower, na?"
"That's... never happened before. ...Has it?"
"No," Youji lied. Only once, anyway. "This was my fault, don't sweat it."
"How?"
"Trust me on this one." You coulda been more liberal with the lube, but... that ain't the point. "Now tell me why you said that."
"Because..." Ken pressed his fingers into the bruise on his left cheek. "Because I'm not... very good to you."
Youji's eyebrows made for his hairline. "Says who?"
"A--nobody."
Youji's chest was starting to feel strange. This wasn't the kind of thing he found easy to discuss right after sex, when all he wanted to do was curl up and sleep in his lover's arms. Not that Ken ever obliged anyway. Still, sleep was attractive and thought wasn't. "I'm not complaining, what's with you?" Ken frowned, rubbing that bruised flesh in a preoccupied manner. Youji's brows drew. "Just where did you get that--and the rest of it, Ken?"
Ken glanced at him, then away. "I drove off the road again."
Youji twitched. "Oh, you tell me this before I let you drive me home."
Ken shrugged. "You asked."
"Sure you don't wanna walk?"
"You in any shape to walk?"
"Point, and you're a jerk."
Ken shrugged again as they walked back across the parking lot to his motorcycle.
"But, then," Ken said, handing Youji the helmet. "You're not gonna?"
Youji shook his head slowly. So that's what today was all about? But why? "You haven't figured that out in five years?" He pulled on the helmet and climbed on behind Ken, wrapping his arms around the other assassin's waist and leaning with a soft sigh against that broad back. Maybe not, huh? "I ain't goin' anywhere."
"Good," Ken said quietly, before revving up the bike.
The roar of the motor was an easy excuse not to talk on their way home. Youji was just as pleased not to--he was exhausted. Not afterglow drowsiness; he just felt drained. He couldn't recapture the frame of mind he'd had this morning. The... positivity... was gone.
Despite the resolution that he was too tired to think, Ken's behaviour nagged at him. Leave? Youji's first thought when Ken had said it was that he'd finally, somehow, found out about Aya. And that idea panicked him. Without ever having voiced it, he and Aya had known their--well, whatever it was--had to remain secret. Why, Youji wasn't sure himself.
Why he kept risking something that he was sure would mean the end of his relationship with Ken... he didn't know, either.
But... Youji closed his eyes, shivering and huddling closer to Ken's back. I know I'm wrong. I know that much.